


This (doesn't) have to stop

by Dan_de_lion



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dan_de_lion/pseuds/Dan_de_lion
Summary: Geralt is not an affectionate person, however, with Jaskier, he is allowed a slip or two.OR the typical'Geralt is bad at feelings' trope.Really, it's just fluff.Sort of pre-established relationship, but also, not really? They are just idiots in love.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 146





	This (doesn't) have to stop

**Author's Note:**

> Don't expect plot, there's no such thing. Only heart to heart conversation.
> 
> (Not the first fic I've ever written, but the first one I'm actually posting - so bear with me, please!)

"This needs to stop." Geralt said abruptly during one exceptionally warm day. The sun was at its highest and its rays shone down on the pair, forcing them to cover their eyes under it. Geralt was sitting under a fully blossomed tree. Few stray blooms were falling down, making little dances when the wind blown by and the gravitation wasn't strong enough to keep them in a straight line. 

Jaskier was right there too, under the same tree, with his eyes closed and his head laid on the robust thight of the witcher. Few strands of his autumn burn hair felt onto the surface of his lids and enlaced themselves with the already fallen leaves, making an oddly beautiful mess. 

Geralt's hand was immediately lifted, and with the slightest of motion, he picked those leaves from the top of Jaskier's head, brushing over his nose with the bottom of his palm. It was an instinctual movement, something he didn't have to think about before doing, it was something his body got accustomed to by now. 

"What does?" a soft voice asked. Jaskier didn't even open his eyes to look at Geralt, merely enjoyed the contact of the other's cold body on him. He actually leaned towards the touch, wanting to feel it in its fullest, no matter how small or insignificant it was. For him, as long as it was pleasurable, he didn't care what it was, the more when it came from Geralt. And in that case, everything was. 

"This." the witcher answered simply, as if that one word explained everything. Perhaps it did, for Geralt. After all, he was a man of few words, and even less of actual explanations - at least, for as much as Jaskier could judge. 

It was never easy to understand him completely. There were moments when Jaskier just couldn't make out what the witcher meant at all. Moments that became less and less frequent the more time passed between them, but ones that still appeared on almost weekly basic. It seemed that this was one of those times. 

Therefore, he turned his head to the side, indicating that Geralt needed to unfurl his response if he wished Jaskier to understand. 

For a while, silence was the only answer that awaited him, almost as if Geralt was unwilling to say more about the matter, didn't know the right words, probably. Jaskier gave him time, about as he always did when the other had one of his untalkative moods, simply deciding to wait. They had plenty of time, after all, and this particular position was too comfortable to break just because Geralt took long to speak. 

However, when another couple of minutes passed without a single change, Jaskier got impatient. He was never the one to keep calm for longer periods of time. "Geralt-?" 

He didn't get to speak more that to softly whisper the tone of his name though, when Geralt interrupted him quietly. His voice was calm, controlled, but it was also tangled by an emotion he didn't manage to hide in time. Which one precisely, that Jaskier was not able to tell (however, if he was to guess, he'd go with the mournful pallete). 

"I'm getting too comfortable around you."

Jaskier blinked. Oh, this was new, unexpected to be heard from the man, and it made his lips turn into a smile. "Yes,, and that's a problem?" 

Into a smile that was soon replaced by a grin, because really, he didn't see anything wrong in this. Actually, if Geralt told him the exact opposite, it would make him sad, distressful. It would probably break him if he'd ever get told by the man that he didn't feel at ease in Jaskier's own presence. 

In addition to that, they've know each other for how many year? It was only predictable that even the always brooding witcher would start to feel more than just an annoyance. 

"I'm not used to this." Geralt's voice cut off his thoughts, and it was this moment exactly, when he trully opened his eyes for the first time. His blue pupils pierced Geralt's yellow one, and with apparent question, he spoke two single words, daring the witcher to reply truthfully; "What exactly?"

"Touches, for example. I don't know how to do that." Geralt said sincerely, but the hand in Jaskier's hair didn't stop. The fingers brushing past the dark strands didn't come to halt either, there was even the faintest of smiles on his face, indicating that he didn't plan to cease with the motion any time soon. No matter the words that went through his mouth. 

"Never felt the need to do it, either." he added as if in an afterthought, almost inaudibly. 

"You are going well. Besides, it's not like I'm forcing you to." Jaskier replied, the grin from before even more apparent this time. Honestly, why was Geralt so afraid to show the tiniest bits of affection? But even if that question flew through his mind, the answer was apparent right away. It was as simple as the fact that his almighty witcher just wasn't used to it. For all his life, he had been told to be a monster more time than he can count, and the mutations made him appear unapproachable to other at best, frightening at worst. His personality didn't help either. 

So this was something new, something he never had the opportunity to learn. Even with Yennefer it was all mostly physical, the woman not being any more affectionate than Geralt himself. 

"Jaskier."

"What, it's the truth." Jaskier laughed, not showing any of his internal thoughts on his expression. For now, Geralt needed reassurances, not accusals; "You don't have to do any of this. No need to let me lie on you like this, no need to brush through my hair. Because, like, don't get me wrong, I do enjoy it. Immersely. But you don't have to."

He meant it all. Jaskier would stay by his side even without any of this lovely-dovely silliness, if it made him happy. 

He saw Geralt nodding once, content with his response before closing his eyes again and allwing the sunshine to fell on his face. He let himself feel the warmth from the rays that peeped through the branches, let the breeze chill his body, and most importantly, enjoyed the contact with Geralt's large hand on his forehead and those miniature strokes he felt in between his hair. It was perfect. 

... ... 

At the end, it was the witcher who interrupted their silence for the second time today when his mouth formed the shape of his name; "Jaskier?" 

The bard in question only jolted slightly at the sign that he heard him. 

"I want to." the words came quietly, but there was a certainity to them, that it made it imposible for Jaskier to doubt them. Not that he actually wanted to. 

"Geralt?" he spoke, a mere couple of seconds later, content visible in all of his features. 

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Nothing, just, thank you." for being honest with me, for letting me do this. For the fact that you care, even if you don't have to.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos? 👀


End file.
